


A Mistake

by calypso_hawthorne



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attacks, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:43:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7886236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calypso_hawthorne/pseuds/calypso_hawthorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis is looking for comfort. Richard is making a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> This is my own take on the kissing scene between Richard and Francis on the night that Bunny dies. What if Charles had not interrupted them?
> 
> Told from Richard's POV. The first couple paragraphs are taken from the book. My writing starts right after the line "It's fun. I promise you."

I became aware that Francis was immediately behind me, and I turned around.

His face was very close to mine. To my surprise he put his hands on my shoulders and leaned forward and kissed me, right on the mouth.

It was a real kiss-long, slow, deliberate. He'd caught me off balance and I grabbed his arm to keep from falling; sharply, he drew in his breath and his hands went down my back and before I knew it, more from reflex than anything else, I was kissing him too. His tongue was sharp. His mouth had a bitter mannish taste, like tea and cigarettes.

He pulled away, breathing hard, and leaned to kiss my throat. I looked rather wildly around the room. _God_ , I thought, _what a night_.

“Look, Francis,” I said, “cut it out.”

He was undoing the top button of my collar. “You idiot,” he said, chuckling. “Did you know your shirt's on inside-out?”

I was so tired and drunk I started to laugh. “Come on Francis,” I said. “Give me a break.”

“It's fun,” he said. “I promise you.”

Up until this day, I don’t know why I let him continue or why I even reciprocated his actions. Grudgingly, mind you.

By this time Francis had pulled off my shirt and pushed me back onto the bed. His tongue was back to busily exploring my mouth and I felt a little dizzy. He moved to kiss my neck. Then my collarbone. There he stopped and sucked on one spot so hard that I knew he was sure to leave a hickey. I gasped slightly at the sudden feeling of dull pain that came with his love bite.

At my sharp intake of breath, Francis looked up at me through his long eyelashes then leaned back. He deftly unbuttoned his own shirt and slid out of it. Then his long, thin fingers went to the button on my trousers. I stopped him by catching his wrist. He looked at me, his eyes inquiring.

“Don't you think this is going too far?” I asked. To my surprise, my voice came out hoarse.

He just smiled grimly, “Some might say that we've already gone ‘too far’ by murdering Bunny. What's a little more sin to add to our repertoire?”

In that moment, I knew that this was nothing but a way for him to get his mind off of what we'd done to Bunny. And I thought, _To hell with all this. Why not? Might as well let him have his fun and forget his troubles. And I can try to get something out of it as well._

So when Francis moved to take my trousers off again, I didn't stop him.

My boxers were pulled off with my pants. For a strange, long second, I felt extremely self-conscious of what Francis would think of my manhood out there in the open for him to see. But when I looked at him, he was too busy removing his own pants.

I watched the last of his clothes come off and _God, he was big._ In respect to the rest of him, his cock was bigger than it should have been. Or so it seemed to me.

Then without any prior warning, he leaned forward, grabbed my cock in one hand and swallowed my length in one go. He took all of it in his mouth at once. My hips bucked forward. I was taken by surprise.

Also to my surprise was the fact that I was almost half-hard already.

Francis bobbed his head up and down and sucked me off. He was remarkably good at it. I supposed I shouldn’t be so surprised. I was on the road to an orgasm, but long before I could come, Francis took my cock out of his mouth. As the cold air hit me, I’m embarrassed to say, I almost whined in displeasure. I wanted him to finish what he started.

I guess he saw the look on my face, because he chuckled and said, “Don’t worry. I’m not _nearly_ done with you yet.”

Then he reached over to his pants on the floor and took a bottle of lube out of one of the pockets.

I don't know what I found more disconcerting, the fact that he was probably planning on _actually_ fucking me or that he was walking around with lube in his pocket.

“What the hell are you doing, going around with that?” I asked.

Francis winked at me, “One never knows when one might need it.”

Then he proceeded to coat his fingers with some lube and he started by sticking one finger in me. It didn’t hurt really, it just felt kind of weird. Then he started moving his finger and I gasped. It felt- I don’t know- _right_?

Francis looked at me, eyes dark with lust, “Oh you like that do you?” And with that he added a second finger, then a third. He was now hitting my prostrate. I was clutching on his arms and biting my lips to keep from making noise. God it felt so _good_.

But again, Francis stopped before I could come, “That should be good enough.” He removed his fingers and instead slathered lube all over his own cock.

Then he positioned himself in front of me and slowly inserted his cock in me. I gasped in pain. Francis paused and looked at me, “You good?” I swallowed and nodded. My cheeks were burning and I couldn't look him in the eye but I knew I wanted him to continue.

Then slowly, Francis started moving in and out of me. I could feel him filling me up and after the initial pain passed, it felt _so good_. I could get drunk on the sensation. I clutched at him and encouraged him, “Faster. Harder.”

Francis obliged. With each thrust, he was driving right into me and hitting my sweet spot. I didn’t even realize it but I was moaning and Francis's shaky breaths were filling my ear.

I grabbed Francis and pulled him even closer until it was like we were one person. One entity. You couldn’t tell where one of us began and the other ended. We were a tangle of limbs and feelings. I wanted more. The pleasure was filling me up to the point where I thought I could die of it.

Francis was whispering in my ear, “You feel so good. Mmm... I can feel you contracting and moving against my dick. Fuck! You’re so tight and hot- Ahh. Babe, you look so good like this. Oh fuck…”

I have to say that I was getting off on his words just as much as his dick.

Before I knew it I was reaching my peak. I warned Francis, “I- I’m going to come.”

By now, Francis’s thrusts had grown desperate, needy, and erratic. They had lost all rhythm. He replied, breathy, “Me too babe, me too.”

_Babe?_

Right before I came, Francis lifted my chin up for one last deep, sloppy kiss.

To my great embarrassment, I came with a sharp cry, trembling in his arms. Francis reached his peak not long after and we both rode out our orgasms. Francis was moaning into my neck and I was holding him so tightly that my knuckles were white and I knew my grip was probably hurting him. But I didn’t pull away.

 

After, when Francis had cleaned us up (I was too sore and drained to be of much help) I moved to go get dressed but Francis grabbed my wrist. I looked at him, surprised. He said, “Stay.”

I lay back down. I wasn’t thinking straight and I was trying to get my thoughts in order when Francis continued, “Can I sleep here tonight?”

I didn’t know what to say. I looked over at him. He was lying next to me, tangled up in the sheets. He was facing me but he wasn’t making eye contact. Instead he was lazily tracing patterns with a finger on my shoulder. I was too tired to move away.

The moonlight coming in through the window was casting a glow on him. His ginger hair shone almost a reddish gold and his skin looked paler in the light. He looked so delicate. Fragile. Like he would break if he wasn’t taken care of properly.

I said, “I don't think that's a good idea.”

Francis looked up at me. The vulnerability in his eyes took me aback, “Please. Just for this one night.”

I sighed, “Fine, just this once. But you stay on your side of the bed and I on mine.”

“We just had sex and now you’re telling me this?”

Francis completely ignored my instructions and instead curled in closer to me. He rested his head on my chest and his hand on my abdomen and closed his eyes. He looked so peaceful and vulnerable. And besides, I really didn’t have the strength to argue with him. So I just closed my eyes, and let sleep take me into its welcoming arms,

 

* * *

 

I was having terrible dreams. Dreams that involved murder, and death and darkness. But all of a sudden a strange sobbing cut through my dreams. I woke to the sound of Francis's crying. I turned to see him sitting, bowed over on the opposite edge of the bed. He was cradling his head in his hands. I could see the smooth curve of his bare neck and back in the light.

His body was shaking with sobs. They were long, harsh sobs. It was almost like he was hyperventilating. I could tell he was making an effort to try not to wake me but it wasn’t really working.

I sat up and reached out in the dark. After a moment’s thought I hesitantly put a hand on his back, “Francis?”

Francis started and immediately sucked in his breath and tried to conceal the fact that he was crying.

“Francis,” I repeated. “What's wrong?”

After a long pause, he replied, voice full of emotion and close to trembling, “Nothing. It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

I seriously considered it. Just going back to sleep and ignoring the fact that anything was bothering him. But what if something was seriously wrong?

“There’s obviously something wrong Francis,” I said. “Tell me what it is.”

Slowly, Francis turned around and I could see his eyes, puffy and red from crying. They had a wild look in them. I took in his tearstained face.  He took a few deep, shaky breaths and and sighed. He looked down at his hands. They were trembling.

I waited patiently for him to continue. He was wringing his hands together and overall looked really nervous.

After what seemed to be an eternity but was probably just a minute or so, Francis started to talk.

“I have a panic disorder. I get anxiety attacks and sometimes I feel afraid for no real reason. I went through analysis and all when I was a kid. I’m usually able to control it, but this whole business with Bunny has my nerves acting up. I haven’t felt this bad in years.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

After waiting a moment to see if I would reply, Francis continued, “Look Richard, I’m sorry. For what happened earlier and for dragging you into my problems. Please don’t be mad at me.”

I sighed inwardly. This was typical of Francis. He would do something and then he would get all worried about me being mad at him and would suddenly try to reconcile.

I replied carefully, taking each word into consideration, “Listen. I’m not mad at you. How could I be about something like this? You can’t control it and it must be like hell when you're going through one of those attacks.”

Francis looked up at me, finally making eye contact. _Why the_ hell _was his vulnerability getting to me in such a weird way?_

Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his wrist to stop him from fidgeting. The surprise in Francis’s eyes gave me a strange urge to laugh.

Without letting go of his wrist I continued talking, “And about the sex, I can’t really _stay_ mad at you for long because we were both drunk and upset and not in our right minds.”

I paused, then continued, a mischievous tone had entered into my voice, “And besides, it _was_ pretty fun.”

If it was even possible, Francis’s eyes got even rounder. He seemed to be at a loss for words. I guess there _was_ a first time for everything.

I continued talking. All the humor was gone from my voice now and I was completely serious, “But Francis, don't you _dare_ apologize for your anxiety ever again. Don’t be ashamed of it. You can’t help it. It’s not something that’s under your control. And you can always come to me if you need help.”

In a small voice, Francis said, “Thank you Richard. I- I appreciate this. Truly.”

The tone of his voice sent a strange pang through my heart. He was looking down at his hands again. His wrists was still in _my_ hand. Once again, I remarked on how fragile and delicate it felt.

On an wild, crazy impulse, I pulled him forward and kissed him. After a moment’s hesitation he kissed me back. It was slow, sweet and innocent.

Dimly, at the back of my mind, I thought, _This is a mistake_.

But I had made many mistakes in my fairly short life and this was definitely _not_ the worst of them.

Time seemed to slow down. It was all, my hands on his waist, his hands on my shoulders, his tongue in my mouth, our hearts beating together.

My hands made their way up his smooth back and into his hair. It was unbelievably soft and I weaved my fingers through it.

We kissed and kissed and kissed. It seemed like forever and the blink of an eye simultaneously. All that was important was the man between my arms. Everything else faded away. Nothing else seemed to matter.

Finally, Francis pulled away. We were both slightly out of breath and I felt a little off balance.

It was like my world had just shrunk down to incorporate only Francis. In the dim light coming in through the window, in my shabby room, on my bed, I have to admit, _he looked beautiful_.

Wordlessly, Francis pulled us both down onto the bed so that we were lying with his head tucked under my chin and his hand over my beating heart. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close.

“Are you feeling better?” I whispered into the dark.

I could practically hear the smile in his voice when he answered, “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Good.”

He gently shushed me, “Go to sleep. I'm dead tired and I’m sure you are too.”

I kissed the top of his head. I closed my eyes and lay my head back. I could feel the faint smile on my face. Tomorrow we would have to deal with god knew what, but for tonight I was content to just lie in bed with my mistake.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated! <3


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